In Flames
by Jimperbam
Summary: During a hectic attack on Berk, Hiccup is left largely unsupervised and must fend for himself. This spells trouble when the leader of the attacking clan seeks him out to fulfill her bounty.


My first HTTYD fic. I'm fine with posting it here because when I started it, the last chunk of my dignity crumbled into the abyss. But anyway. This was actually loosely based on an epic dream I had, with only one major detail altered. I woke up and knew I couldn't let it go unwritten. After When Lightning Strikes, I've developed an addiction to hurt!Hiccup. So, thanks in advance for reading, hope you enjoy it!

HTTDY (c) Dreamworks, right? I don't own it, at any rate.

* * *

The blazing fires burned hotter than any recorded summer's day. Granted, there probably wouldn't have been as many fires if our dragons  
hadn't tried to help, but if our dragons hadn't helped, all would have been lost long ago.

I couldn't help but think of that fateful morning when I thought shooting down a Night Fury would gain me fame and respect. I remembered the heat of the smoldering houses and of the sprays of dragon fire, the clanging of metal, the shouting, and I almost wished this battle were as light as that one.

The best that could be said was that at least we had early warning of the impending invasion. We were out for our daily flight when we spotted twenty ships flying rival colors. Astrid and I raced back to the village to warn my dad while the others stayed behind to monitor the fleet's progress and, if necessary, become the first line of defense.

"Let's take out that catapult, bud," I muttered to Toothless.

We focused on one of the last of the weapons. A barrage of flaming arrows failed to deter us. The catapult fell to a violet streak of fire. I  
smirked, feeling surprisingly vindictive.

The bottom dropped out of my stomach as Toothless suddenly lurched and plummeted. "Toothless, what is it?" I shouted. He screeched in  
response. I instinctively checked the artificial tail fin and saw the remainder of it sizzling away.

_Not again._

"It's okay, Toothless, let's land." Fighting nature would result in catastrophe. I steered us towards an area on the fringe of the conflict.

My reassurance was empty to me. My usefulness in the fight disintegrated with the fin. Training dragons had not honed my combat skills: I still couldn't swing an ax to save my life. If I joined the fray, I would be under foot once again, but what choice did I have? I couldn't hang back knowing my friends were risking their lives.

"It's an occupational hazard," I sighed to myself as encouragement. "Toothless, stay here. If anyone comes at you...kill them."

Toothless growled and followed me closely.

"No, I'm serious. I have to fight and I can't do that if I'm worried about you."

He snorted. I had a feeling he was thinking something very sarcastic. I glared and took a few experimental steps backward. He stayed in  
place. I hoped he would keep his end of the bargain.

The forge was empty when I burst through the door. Gobber had long since departed to help the cause. Heart pounding, I headed straight for a compartment in the floorboards I was sure was unknown to all but me. Years ago I entrusted a secret treasure to it: a straight sword light  
enough for me to use. I forged it in a time when I expected to one day use it on a dragon. I prayed to the gods it was still-

Yes. My hands closed naturally around the hilt. It was tarnished-I hadn't touched it in years-and consequently still sharp. A smile flickered  
briefly before I turned and plunged headlong into the raging war.

The first ten minutes of my debut battle taught me many things. Foremost, I learned that looks can be deceiving. Though Astrid, the twins, and I shared a similar build (height notwithstanding), I was infinitely weaker than all of them. This fact was driven home by the first enemy I  
encountered as he threw me into the wall of the forge with one forceful swipe.

"Hiccup?" a familiar voice shrieked. "Hiccup!"

I squinted through the thick haze of smoke. Astrid was headed toward me at full speed. I rose to meet her, already concocting an explanation  
for whatever she was going to ask.

"What are you _doing_ out here?" she panted.

I frowned. "Can we leave that you're-not-a-real-viking-so-go-back-inside tone out, please?"

"I thought you and Toothless were working at the coast!"

"We're grounded until further notice. I told him to stay out of it. Meanwhile I'm-"

"Getting your butt kicked?"

"I think, given my track record, I've earned the benefit of the doubt."

Astrid's soot-covered expression softened slightly. "Fine," she agreed. "Stay close. We'll do this together."

She took off. I hurried to keep up. Astrid seemed to have a destination in mind, so I followed without question until I realized where we were  
headed.

"Astrid-the village square?" I yelped.

"We're all holding it. It was Snoutlout's idea."

_Of course it was._ I rolled my eyes. Why on earth would we stay away from arguably the most dangerous battle zone?

It was nothing short of the will of the gods that I held my own, even with five people to have my back. Everything was a blur of noise and  
movement. I never put much stock in the idea of viking killer instinct, but that had to be the only thing powering me. The inordinate amount of  
blows I received made me seriously consider seeking combat training if I survived the night.

Gobber muscled through the brawl. "Oi, kids!" he shouted. "Get up to the great hall! We need reinforcements!"

Through a collective glance we decided to obey. We punched and elbowed and slashed a path up the hill, avoiding fallen pieces of smoldering  
houses and the wounded. We moved as a group, and that in itself surprised me. There was an unmentioned level of trust that kept us from  
scattering and picking individual paths. I realized that for the past few months, we hadn't only been training our dragons.

The area near the great hall was a mess. I guessed a flank had come down the mountain out of the woods. I did what I could, but the  
confusion of the fray and general lack of stamina began to get to me. It became hard to lift my sword to block, let alone swing it. And they just  
kept coming from everywhere, and there were screams of rage and pain, and clangs, and cracks where burning buildings were falling apart...

I winced for a split second, wishing I could block out the din. The next moment found me flat on my back and grappling to keep a large knife  
away from my throat. The wielder was massive; kicking did nothing. I felt the sharp, cold tip under my chin.

The pressure suddenly vanished. I was fleetingly grateful before preparing to fight whoever loomed over me.

"_Dad_?"

"Hiccup!" Dad lifted me to my feet. "What in the name of Thor are you doing out here?"

"Ah...Dad, at this point, I really don't know."

"Why aren't you with Toothless?"

"His tail got destroyed, so I told him to hang back."

"Then you need to go inside 'til this is over!"

I parried an incoming blow and Dad cracked him over the head. "I think I'm doing pretty good," I panted. "Besides, Gobber sent us up here, so  
we must be getting desperate."

His expression confirmed this. "Alright," he said unwillingly, "but I'd feel better if Toothless were with you. Go find him and come straight back."

It was a condition I could live with. Anyway, I'd been worried about Toothless since we parted. I flitted through clashing groups with minimal  
conflict. Eventually I filtered out anything that wasn't black and reptilian; if I could spot a Night Fury in the wee hours of the morning, finding him in a village alight with fire should be no problem.

"Toothless! Where are you? Come on out, it's okay!"

A shadow moved between buildings. I headed towards it, my hand extending instinctively. "Bud, is that you?"

The shadow darted forward. Firelight illuminated it and I raised my arms in time to be thrown back several feet.

It was the most imposing woman I'd ever seen. In fact, I wouldn't have known she was female were she not sporting an exaggerated  
breastplate. She raised a sword longer than I was tall and swept me with a blazing glare. Her eyes lingered on my prosthetic. The resulting  
smirk convinced me to take a few steps back.

"So you're him, then," she rumbled.

"I'm sure whatever _him_ you're looking for is definitely not me," I stalled. I looked around. Everyone was occupied. I was on my own with this  
one. I supposed it was for the best; I doubted I could take this woman down even with help.

"You're him, all right. Alvin mentioned the leg."

I let out the horror and foreboding in a short sigh. Fighting to organize my thoughts, I continued shakily, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't try to confuse Olga the Offender, boy. You're the dragon conqueror. Hiccup."

I didn't need to bother with further banter. I figured I could fill in the pieces for myself-Olga the Offender was on a mercenary trip for Alvin to  
find me. What remained to be seen was whether her orders were dead or alive. I decided I didn't want to stick around to ask.

Olga pounded after me, knocking people out of the way like a boulder flattening shrubs on its way down a mountain. I didn't know exactly  
where I was running. Dad and Gobber had their own problems. Toothless was nowhere to be found. All I knew was that a tactical retreat was  
the best way to buy time to formulate a real plan.

So I ran, dodging errant weapons and fists. Olga stayed hot on my trail. I shouted for Toothless and grew more worried each time he didn't  
come barreling through the crowd. The anxiety mounted when I realized that all of my attention was focused on not getting accidentally impaled instead of solving the ferocious problem gaining on me.

"HICCUP!"

Was that Astrid again? I irrationally feared the worst as I spun in the direction of her cry. Her face stood out in the small collection of  
horror-struck visages. I almost wondered what was wrong when the unstoppable force of nature on my tail rammed me. I saw stars, for which I was lucky, considering the sheer mass of what knocked me to the ground.

"I thought you'd put up more of a fight," Olga sneered. "How can you be the one who conquers dragons? My sword must weigh more than  
you!"

I internally rolled my eyes at her oh so witty observation and scrambled to my feet. I continued the retreat, but I knew I was out of time. I had  
to make a stand.

And just like that, as a nearby explosion bathed me in heat, I had my answer.

"I thought _you'd_ put up more of a fight!" I called over my shoulder. "You can't even catch a boy with one leg!"

Olga roared and began to close the distance between us. It was exactly what I wanted. We'd circled around past the great hall and were  
nearing the bulk of the houses in the village. I selected one that was far along in its roasting and, in a display of agility rather unheard of from  
me, jumped onto the flat part of the roof.

Thankfully, this did not put Olga off. She bounded the small gap with unnecessary force; the house below us shuddered violently. "Looks like  
you're cornered," she leered.

"Looks like it," I replied, playing along.

"Alvin would have preferred you alive."

I suppressed a shudder. My fingers curled more tightly around the leather hilt of my sword. I just had to play the waiting game without losing.

Olga, for all her bulk, was agile. That, or I had depleted my magic well of mediocre fighting prowess. She attacked and I defended to the best  
of my ability without losing ground. As the flames crept higher and heated my legs, I felt for just a second that I could do this.

My sword went spinning into the battle below after one sloppy parry on my part. My heart jumped into my throat. Olga grinned gloatingly and  
advanced, taking slow, heavy, deliberate steps.

I still had a dagger. I threw it and it stuck in her shield. Out of desperation I grabbed a chunk of wood that had been dislodged by an invading  
boulder. The embers it contained burned my hands. Olga sliced through it effortlessly.

"Is that all you got?" I challenged weakly.

She swiped. I stumbled back but the sword caught my arms as I used them to shield my face. I hissed at the pain, instinctively clutching at  
both wounds. The next barrage I barely avoided; one particular drive unbalanced me so much that I almost slipped.

The roof gave a threatening groan. A large section of shingles collapsed. Our battlefield tilted slightly. Olga noticed. "I guess I should make this  
brief."

To my utmost horror, she withdrew from seemingly nowhere a massive mace. Her armed silhouette against an almost solid wall of fire was  
enough to make a more seasoned viking quake. She swung the new weapon. It whooshed as it increased to a lethal speed.

"I am so dead."

"You got that right."

By a miracle I had enough room to back up to avoid the mace. The sword brought less luck. It tore a single line across my shoulder and chest.  
I gasped and slid down the figurehead. Warm blood drenched my shirt. I pressed my arm across it, ignoring the twinging from its own injury.  
Either the gash or the agony made it hard to breathe; I sincerely hoped it was the latter.

I gazed down into the frothing sea of bodies. Each person was locked in his own world of combat, paying no mind to anyone other than his  
opponent. Dragons soared and dipped and shot flames at the invading ships. Thornado was up there without Dad. Toothless was gods know  
where without me. My friends were also lost, hopefully safe, hopefully together. And I was alone.

I looked up at Olga and choked, "Go on. Finish it."

The ball of her mace was a blur orbiting the handle. I tensed. I was ready.

The first blow knocked off the part of the figurehead that would have been my head had I not ducked. Olga gave an enraged cry and drew back

for a second try. As the ball came down, I hooked my arms around the destroyed post and flung myself off the roof.  
It was enough. The wood, at its integrity's end, disintegrated. Olga's scream grew distant the more floors she fell through. I hoped she hit the  
bottom inferno.

I scrabbled back onto semi-solid wood. There was only a small ledge to stand on before the gaping hole. I peered into it and saw nothing but  
flames. A breathed half-laugh of relief escaped me.

I chanced another look around. Perhaps it was the elation of my victory, but the enemy numbers seemed less now. The remnants of the boats  
were trying to float out to sea. Dragons were even perching to rest.

I called to Toothless, and although it was rather quiet due to my condition, I saw a black mass with green eyes perk its head  
from atop the great hall. This drew forth a true smile. I waved my entire throbbing arm at him.

There was a terrible crunching noise and my small roost imploded. The familiar sensation of falling stole what little breath I had left. I broke  
through two fire-softened floors before landing in the rubble of a table. I lay there on the hot embers, ignoring how they seared. My ears rang  
and my head was heavy. I suddenly felt the blood loss a hundredfold. But I was not dead. I still had strength and I was not going down without a fight.

I crawled around baking beams to the brick fireplace and heaved myself up. The room spun. I squinted through the smoke and licking flames.  
Had something stirred in the corner, or was my eyesight going?

A pile of shingles went flying. Olga burst out of the wreckage like the most ugly plant to ever bloom. She fixed me with a very homicidal gaze  
and advanced.

"Are you serious?!" I shouted over the crackling.

All the weapons in the house were either gone or too hot to handle. I lunged out of the way of her first attack and fell hard on the floor. Olga  
loomed over me. The fire around her made her look insane.

"Finally," she rasped. She raised her sword above her head for the finishing blow.

But I still wasn't going down without a fight. I rolled away at the last second. Olga's sword became lodged in the floor. While she cursed and  
yanked on it, I focused on crawling for the door. The smoke was getting to me. I'd suffocate without fresh air.

"No you don't!" Olga bellowed. She picked me up and hurled me all the way across the degenerating room. I smashed into the opposite wall  
and blacked out for a moment. "If I don't make it out of this, neither do you!"

Olga began smashing the wooden supports that were miraculously still keeping the house up. I tried to tell her to stop, but the smoke choked  
me. I watched smoldering wood rain down, starting from the front of the house and working its way back. Olga was buried. The wave was  
coming for me. I simply rolled tighter into the corner and closed my eyes.

Insistent scritching roused me. There was nothing to see in my dark cocoon of charred wood. I wondered where the sound was coming from.  
Cool air touched my face. I inhaled and coughed out lungfuls of smoke. I cracked an eye. Green orbs stared back. "Hey, bud," I whispered.  
Toothless shrieked and continued to dig. I was very grateful that he was careful not to hit me with his claws. He kept keening as if to tell me to  
hold on.

I figured I could hold on. It was just a matter of willpower. If I could keep my head, stay aware of the world, I could hold on. "I got it," I assured him.

Once I was exposed to clean air once more, Toothless nuzzled under my hand and purred soothingly. I ran my blistered fingers over the  
familiar scales and sighed. It was something to focus on, a reason to live. I wondered where all the others-

"Son!"

"Dad?"

I peeked up into a world colored by the early sun. My father's battle-worn and worried face appeared above me. I barely managed a smile.

"Oh, Hiccup."

"Made it," I mumbled.

"Alright-okay-we've got to get you out of there. Is anything broken?"

"Not sure." I couldn't feel much of anything. I supposed it was my sensory system shutting down from overload.

For once, Dad was gentle. He lifted me out of the rubble like I was made of glass. I was vaguely dismayed when my hand could no longer  
reach Toothless, but I heard him follow me closely.

Dad was running. I saw people part for us. Cries of concern and horror rose as we passed. One was particularly piercing-Astrid-and...was  
that one Ruffnut-?

"Is everyone okay?" I asked hoarsely.

"Don't talk, Hiccup."

"Dad." My stomach had the strength to roll at the lack of immediate answer. "Is everyone okay?"

"Yes, everyone's fine."

"Really?"

"Really. Shh."

I honed in on the small things to keep alert. I counted Dad's footsteps to the house. I noted how the entire village smelled like a dying dinner  
fire. I listened to the various warbles in the air and tried to classify them to their respective dragons. By this time I was laid gingerly on my bed.  
I blinked tiredly at the ceiling.

"Dad, can I sleep?" I asked quietly.

"No, Hiccup, not yet. The healer is on her way. Just hold on a bit longer, son."

I felt around for Toothless. His nose immediately met my hand. I lost myself in memories of flying and did my best to keep the color in them.

The door banged open. I jumped and winced. "Good thing I wasn't sleeping," I croaked.

"Glad you haven't lost your sense of humor." Gobber's joke lacked his usual humor.

The healer, Killia, opened her sack of instruments and medicines. "The shirt will have to come off," she said apologetically.

"No, that's okay." The fabric was probably melted to my skin.

My response fell on deaf ears. Killia stripped the ashy cloth over my head as as gently as possible. The shirt brought with it all the blood that  
had dried over my cuts. I whimpered when they reopened.

The cleaning sent ripples of fiery ache all over my body, waking up the previously slumbering nerves. The weight of the battle dropped on me  
all at once. It was like being crushed by that roof all over again. I attempted to keep my pained groans to a minimum, but it still showed on  
everyone's faces. Toothless licked my hand comfortingly from time to time.

When at last every burn and slash had been addressed, Killia stood up. "He's running a fever," she announced, "but that's to be expected. It is a miracle from Odin that no bones were broken. Stoick, keep him warm, make him drink, and let him eat lightly if he wants. But most importantly, Hiccup, you need to sleep. I'll be back later to check on you."

"Thank you," I murmured sincerely, already halfway to unconsciousness.

* * *

The next few days were, in a word, miserable. My ravaged body worked to repair itself under a high fever. I quaked with chills, which made me  
even more sore. Dad was in and out checking on me and bringing me water, and my friends may have peeked in for a moment. The only  
constant I knew was Toothless. He managed to push his bed right next to mine. I kept a hand on him at all times. He helped me stay grounded, and his intermittent coos were comforting.

I was shuddering particularly hard one moment of clarity. The five or so blankets piled on me were rather ineffective. Toothless whined and  
nudged me. "It's okay, buddy," I coughed. "Some mess I got myself into, huh?"

Toothless crooned and enveloped me in his wing. I chuckled and scooted a little closer. It was just as good as being next to a fire (which I  
would be actively avoiding for a while). "Thanks, Toothless," I whispered. I drifted off again, finally warm.

The fever went down. I opened my eyes to light coming in the window. I smiled at the hopeful sight, and because the haze of illness was gone. I was back in my head.

Toothless was asleep. I left him to it and stretched gingerly. The skin around the chest wound pulled but didn't split. I hoped my body would  
cooperate, for I was stiff and I wanted to get up. My legs held the weight, which was encouraging. The first step of the stairs creaked when  
pressure was applied, and instantly Toothless was by my side, sniffing every inch of me.

"Sorry to wake you, bud. I was just gonna go outside for a minute."

Toothless glared sternly at me. He clearly did not agree with the plan. He stuck close as I descended and opened the door.

I cowered away from the blinding sunlight. It was surprising what a long stint in constant dimness could do. When my eyes adjusted, I looked  
down into the village. They'd gotten a lot done in the time I was out. Most of the houses were almost completely rebuilt, the towers repaired,  
and the rubble cleared from the streets. Dragons swooped to and fro, assisting with clean up. I smiled. Berk, whatever its faults, was resilient,  
and I was very grateful.

Toothless herded me back towards the door. I laughed. "Not so fast, mister. I didn't lose a leg this time. I want to walk around."

This greatly irritated my dragon, but he had no choice except to follow me. We strolled slowly around the fringe of civilization; I wasn't ready to  
face people just yet. The breeze ghosted over my sore skin. I reflected on how extremely lucky I was to have even been able to get out of bed. The events of that night were oddly blurred, but they brought a shiver whenever I reviewed them.

"Ah well. Guess it doesn't matter, does it?" I said to Toothless. "I'm here now. That's what matters."

"Hey, is that Hiccup?" a distant voice shouted.  
I turned. A familiar arrangement of figures was headed full steam towards me. I braced myself. "Ah! Ow! Gods, be gentle!"

I had to pretend the congratulatory slaps and punches didn't make me want to curl into a ball and cry. It was a confusing mixture of cheers and whoops and beaming faces. "Okay, it's great to see you guys, too!" I grinned.

I finally had a chance to see them properly and tally the damage. The twins, unsurprisingly, had many nicks due to their reckless and violent  
fighting style. The ends of Tuffnut's hair were singed, and a long cut ran diagonally across Ruffnut's neck; it would probably turn into a scar,  
surely much to her delight. Fishlegs had a bound leg and heavy limp. Snotlout's head and left eye was bandaged. Astrid sported various burns  
and a nasty cut on her forehead.

I'd never been more happy to see them. "You guys look great," I teased. "Snotlout, you keeping that eye?"

"Not if I'm lucky! Not that it _matters_-" He fixed me with a half annoyed, half impressed gaze. "You really took a beating. It's like none of us  
got a scratch, and we put in a lot of work! You are one crazy viking!"

Words escaped me. I'd never been given the true label of viking by anyone. I wished I could be more eloquent, but Astrid saved me the  
trouble.

"You say that like it's a good thing!" she raged. "What were you _thinking_, Hiccup, jumping onto that burning roof?"

"If I didn't know better, Astrid, I'd say you weren't happy to see me," I joked.

"Hiccup, I swear to the gods, I'm going to give you another scar-!"

"Hey, that's right!" Ruffnut pushed Astrid out of the way and examined me closely. "Let's see your souvenirs, big shot!"

I hesitated, but Ruffnut was serious, so I obliged. They _oohed_ at my twin forearm wounds that were still in the process of healing and  
cheered at my sliced chest. I smiled, a little bemused. Only Astrid and Toothless were less than excited; Astrid crossed her arms and Toothless  
sighed heavily.

"How's it feel to have your first major kill behind you?" Tuffnut asked enthusiastically.

My eyebrows shot up. "So she's dead, then?"

"Of course she's dead! You dropped a house on her!"

"Well, I won't lie, that was kind of my plan all along..."

Everyone laughed, an even Astrid cracked a smile.

A loud summons rang across the field. I jumped and winced. "Oh boy. I didn't tell my dad I went out. I'll see you guys later."

They bid me good-natured farewells. I hurried home. Though Dad would definitely not be pleased by my sneaking out, nothing short of utter  
disaster could ruin the day. I was officially a viking in the eyes of Berk, and all it took was smashing a monster of a woman with a burning  
house.

Well, better late than never.


End file.
